


In between the tiles

by Puhoy



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Mettaton is just rlly stressed, crybaby mettaton, its rlly gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 07:11:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5576041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puhoy/pseuds/Puhoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mettaton is really stressed out and Papyrus is there to comfort him</p>
            </blockquote>





	In between the tiles

It was a bad day at work.

No, scratch that, the whole week had been an absolute horrid experience and that was the bare minimum understanding of it all. Everything had been piling up and despite Mettaton's best efforts, a wall of sticks would not hold back a flood. It was only so long until the makeshift dam broke and he had enough of trying to keep his composure.

Apparently, today was the day the dam came down. 

 

"Oh, Mettaton! You're home early!" Papyrus called from the kitchen after hearing the door open and slam from down the hallway, a telltale sign of Mettaton's arrival. Papyrus had been making what would be their dinner tonight, which, unsurprisingly, was pasta. Papyrus didn't hear a response from his husband, which, although wasn't unusual, he would've at least heard a mumble or something which could easily be taken for a 'hello' or even a recognition that Papyrus was home as well. 

It worried him. 

Papyrus set down the pot of spaghetti on the stove, turning the stove dial up and placed the spoon on the counter. 

"Mettaton? Are you alright?" Papyrus asked, untying his apron and placed it on the head of the chair. He began to make his way down the hallway, only to step into what seemed to be a puddle of water. Papyrus lifted his foot and walked around the remaining puddles of water that trailed down the hallway, making a mental note to mop that up afterwards so another sock wouldn't be ruined by the liquid fiend. 

Despite the house having a rather large amount of rooms which Papyrus passed by, none of them possessed Mettaton within them. It was worrying. It was even more worrying when Papyrus could hear the faint sobs coming from one of the rooms, although he had never heard Mettaton cry, it wasn't hard to figure out that he was the one doing it, since it wasn't Papyrus. 

There was one room that Papyrus hadn't checked yet; the bathroom. 

Papyrus stood outside the door to the bathroom, leaning against the wood that separated him from the crying Mettaton. 

He gave a light knock on the wood, and with that, the noises stopped all at once. 

"Mettaton? Are you okay?" Papyrus asked, listening against the wood for an answer. For anything. 

"Y-yes, Darling! I'm perfectly- perfectly fine. " It was quick and seemed like the owner of the voice had trouble and stumbled over the response. 

"I'd never accuse you of lying, but, I don't think you're telling the whole truth..." Papyrus said, trying the door knob to find it locked. Of course it was. 

"W-what would, uhm, make you think that, dearie?" 

"Can you open the door?" 

Silence.

"Please?" Papyrus added in. He waited by the door patiently, hoping that Mettaton would open. 

The door clicked. Papyrus slowly turned the knob and opened it. He looked down at his husband sitting on the floor, soaking wet and silently weeping, shoulders shaking and hands trembling. 

Papyrus frowned at the sight of this and bent down, taking a seat next to Mettaton. 

"Is everything okay, Mettaton?" Papyrus asked, intertwining their fingers, offering a warm smile towards the other who bit his lip in response, dodging Papyrus's gaze, but didn't refuse Papyrus's hands. In fact, Mettaton gripped them a bit tighter. 

"I'm sorry, love. I must..." He hiccuped. "I must look like a mess..my makeup's running and I'm soaked.." Mettaton apologized. 

Papyrus brought his hands to his lips and planted a gentle kiss on his knuckles. 

"You always look amazing, Mettaton." Papyrus assured him. "Are you okay?" He asked, inching a bit closer to the shorter one. 

"It's just been a bad week. A really bad week." Mettaton began, his voice cracked mid-sentence, and that was when Papyrus pulled Mettaton closer, wrapping his arms around him in a warm, tight hug. 

The very instant that Papyrus had pulled him in, Mettaton began to sob into his shirt, muffled by the fabric but still evident by the shaking and heaves of his shoulders and lungs. His hands were trembling and clutched onto Papyrus's shirt. Papyrus, for comfort, began to rub circles into the man's wet back, calmly, slowly, gently. 

They sat there as Mettaton cried and Papyrus calmed him. 

Eventually, the crying stopped and the shaking ended and the hands released Papyrus's shirt, leaving it scrunched up in only two places. Papyrus placed a small peck on the top of Mettaton's head.

He smelled like strawberries. 

Even though the sobbing ceased, the two sat like this, in the middle of the bathroom floor for a bit longer. Papyrus planting kisses on Mettaton's face, assuring him that he loved him so very much and that he didn't mind if he cried.

People cry.

It was okay. 

He loved him no matter what. 

That wasn't going to change. 


End file.
